


Interview

by milkysterek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Emissary in Training Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magic Stiles, Mates, sterekalphaemissary, sterekweek2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 21:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12491304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkysterek/pseuds/milkysterek
Summary: Beacon Hills' new alpha is looking for an emissary.





	Interview

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sterek Week!
> 
> Day one - Alpha and Emissary

Stiles’ eyes lurched open and he bolted upright.

He was late.

_ Fuck. _

 

“Only you could sleep in on a day you’ve been preparing for for the past two years.” 

The Sheriff was in the kitchen, an exasperated but fond smile on his lips. He leant against the counter with a travel mug full of coffee, his uniform crisp and presentable on his body. Maybe Stiles wouldn’t have slept in if he hadn’t been up late ironing his father’s clothes, a task the forty-year-old man should surely have been able to do by himself by now. He didn’t voice that, though. Instead, Stiles brushed passed his smirking father and dropped two slices of bread in the toaster, pushing the button down. 

John sighed and squeezed his son’s shoulder, “I have to go to work. Are you sure you’re going to get there in time? I can wait and give you a ride if you need it.”

“No, I’ll make it,” Stiles mustered a tired smile. His adrenaline from realising he was late was wearing off and the haziness of sleep deprivation was setting back in. He’d have to rally soon if he was going to make it to the Hale house in time, “Deaton’s picking me up, anyway.”

Stiles’ jeep was still in the shop after a particularly nasty accident involving a bizarrely placed stop sign and a school bus. If possible, the mechanic bill was even nastier. Damn, he so needed this job. 

“Make sure to thank him,” His dad reminded, collecting the keys to the cruiser from the bowl Stiles had made in middle school that sat in the centre of the kitchen table. “And say hi to him for me.”

“Will do,” Stiles promised and waved his dad off before turning back to his toast, just in time to watch it pop and still somehow manage to nearly shit himself. 

 

When Deaton pulled up outside of the Stilinski residence at eight thirty, as planned, Stiles was on the doorstep and waiting. He didn’t know how he managed to get ready in five minutes, everything was a bit of a blur - he was pretty sure half of his head was still on his pillow - but the point _was_ he was  ready. 

“Told you I wouldn’t be late,” Stiles grinned, climbing into Deaton’s Honda as if he didn’t have toast crumbs in his hair. Deaton just stuck him with a blank and bland look, one which told Stiles he wasn’t being in the least bit convincing. Stiles sighed and pressed his face against the window, “Whatever, I’m here.”

The drive to the Hale house wasn’t a long one. The Hale pack didn’t live too far away. Their house was smack bang in the middle of the preserve, down a twisted labyrinth of narrow dirt roads beneath a canopy of thick, green trees. It was nice and quiet out there, something which Stiles liked, even if the long stretch of silence did drive him a little insane. Still, he could appreciate nature. 

The Hales' driveway was large and daunting. Stiles knew they were loaded -  _ everyone  _ knew they were loaded - but seeing their mansion up close for the first time was, well, kind of breathtaking. The prospect of landing a job there suddenly seemed impossible.

“You’ll be fine,” Deaton assured him as if reading his mind. He wouldn’t put it past the druid, in all honesty; if anyone could read minds, it would be him, “Remember your training.”

“You’re doing it again,” Stiles mumbled and chewed on the sleeve of his hoodie.

Too busy staring wide-eyed at the building in front of him, Stiles didn’t see Deaton give one of his rare smirks.

“My Padawan.”

The boy snapped his head to the side and gawked, “The world’s gone mad,” He gasped then unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, “Thanks for the ride, doctor D!” 

Deaton nodded and drove back the way they’d come while Stiles tried to digest the man’s sudden acceptance of his Jedi master roll. He knew fine well Scott wouldn’t believe him when he told him and Stiles kinda thought that was why Deaton had said it. 

The front door was open when Stiles approached it, a white sheet of paper with the words ‘Emissary applicants, first door on the right’ pinned with blu-tack right in the centre. He must be going the right way, he guessed. Stiles entered the room directed by the sign and saw that it was almost filled to capacity with hopefuls. He was vastly outnumbered and, seeing that some of the applicants were there with someone else, he wished he had brought on of his friends for support. Lydia was always good at interviews, she would have flourished here. 

Thankfully, his wait wasn’t long and less than ten minutes later a young woman around Stiles’ age with dark brown hair emerged from the door Stiles had entered from, “Stiles Stilinski,” she read out and Stiles raised his hand, ignoring the few snickers at his name. 

Stiles followed the woman out of the room and up two flights of stairs before they reached the alpha’s office. He would have made small talk in normal circumstances, but Stiles hadn’t had much sleep the night before and his nerves were getting the better of him. Often, nervousness would present in one of two ways in Stiles: over-sharing or stoic silence. Evidently, today was a silence kind of day. 

They entered the alpha’s office and Stiles took a moment to take in the scene before him. Of course, Stiles had heard rumours about the new alpha. Lydia had said he was handsome, that he looked dark and mysterious with a chiselled face and abs to match. Jackson said he looked practically murderous, the sort to get into bar fights on the nightly and never walk away the loser. Scott hadn’t seen Derek but his girlfriend had and she said he was an angry, overly aggressive man who was best avoided at all costs, something which Scott agreed with because, well, because his girlfriend had been the one to say it. Stiles didn’t know whose assessment was accurate and who’s wasn’t. Personally, Stiles thought the alpha looked like a librarian. 

“Who are you?” The alpha asked, his tone laced with a thick, menacing growl. 

Okay, well, that was rude. One point to Allison, then, he guessed. 

“Uh,” Stiles cleared his throat and stepped forward. The woman who had walked him in disappeared, closing the door behind her with a bang. Stiles almost jumped out of his skin and planted himself down in the chair that was allocated for him on the opposite side of the alpha’s desk, “I’m Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

Silence fell over them then with Stiles and the alpha staring at each other. Just staring. The alpha's eyes bore into him and he felt pinned to his seat, like prey looking into the eyes of the predator that was about to devour it. To his horror, Stiles' cheeks began to redden as he realised why no one had spoken. 

Stiles fumbled in his pockets, fingers moving two quickly to successfully grab anything. Eventually, he had to lift his hips to wiggle his sheet of paper free. Once he had it snagged, he plopped it down on the desk in front of him and unfolded it, smoothing out the creases, “These are my references,” He said then looked up to meet the alpha’s eyes again. He swallowed. 

Alpha Hale’s pupils were blown wide with the previously green irises leaking to a crimson red. The alpha looked to be holding back another growl and Stiles sat back in his chair, trying to get as far away from the wolf as possible in such a small space. There were two other people in the room with them. A large, muscular boy around the same age as both Stiles and the woman from before and a kindly looking woman who he knew to be Talia Hale, the pack’s previous alpha. She was retiring from the post after serving for almost her whole life and Beacon Hills was sad to see it. Still, Talia had assured everyone she came in contact with that her son would do a good job as her replacement. Stiles hoped she’d step in if the new alpha tried to eat him. 

“I, uh,” Stiles continued, uneasy that the alpha hadn’t spoken a word to him since demanding to know his name, “I was trained by Dr Alan Deaton. He’s one of my references. I’ve only been in training for the past two years but I’ve already reached third class and I’m climbing towards second. Deaton thinks I can make first by next y-” Stiles paused and bit the inside of his mouth before continuing, against his better judgement, “I’m sorry,” He muttered, “Are you okay?”

The alpha lurched slightly, as if he were about to pounce at Stiles but grabbed hold of the desk with two hands and dug his claws deep into the expensive looking wood. He didn’t say anything for a moment before hissing out through a mouth full of sharp, definitely not human teeth, “No. I’m Derek.”

Stiles wasn’t sure what to say to that. He hesitated, the leant forward a little, raising a brow, “Was that a dad joke?”

The alpha -  _ Derek _ \- blinked and shook his head, retracting his claws just a little so he could sit back in his seat, “No,” He said gruffly, “I - no. You can go now.”

“That’s it?” He asked, deflating. He hadn’t really expected to get the job but he definitely hadn’t expected to be so bad that he was kicked out of his interview either. Fuck. His dad was going to be so disappointed, “What did I do wrong?”

Talia was looking between the two with a sceptical eye while Derek’s second grinned wolfishly, as if he were in on some joke that no one else in the room was. 

“Nothing,” Derek barked and folded his arms across his chest defensively, “You got the job. Please leave now.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open and his pink tongue flashed out to lap at his bottom lip. What the hell? What with everything his friends had said about this mysterious new alpha, none of them had mentioned that he was absolutely batshit crazy. That assessment was only cemented by Derek going bright red and slamming his fist down on his desk, yelling, “Don’t do that?”

“Don’t do what?” Stiles asked back, dampening his lips again. 

The apha whined and hit his head against his desk. He didn’t look up again when he answered: “That!” Then added, “Get out, all of you!” for good measure.

 

As Stiles was walked down a long corridor that lead to his new office, he wondered what on earth he was getting himself into. Talia seemed nice and happily, she showed him around the room he could now call his own. His office had a balcony and a nice little houseplant that he planned on naming at a later time when his head wasn’t so fuzzy with Derek related thoughts. He had no idea what that outburst from the alpha was though he was pretty sure Talia and Derek’s second, Boyd, were somehow clued in. Whatever, it probably didn't matter. 

At least he got the job. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://milkysterek.tumblr.com/)


End file.
